Kink Meme Series 1
Title: Kink Meme 1
Summary: Spoony only meant to take a nap, not sleep for twelve straight hours. He wakes to find Linkara in the mood to play, but things take a rather *weird* turn. Luckily Linkara doesn't seem to mind. Spoony isn't sure if he does or not.
Characters/Pairings: Linkara/Spoony
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This work is based on characters played by the great guys at Channel Awesome.
Warning- Contains involuntary urination and watersports. It's from the kink meme, after all
Waking is a disaster.
Only the red smear of the alarm clock convinces Spoony he hasn't been the victim of a mugging. Every muscles is stiff and aching, and he has to blink hard before the glowing numbers slide into focus, lids rasping over eyes so dry they feel sandblasted.
Twelve hours. He's been asleep for twelve fucking hours.
He groans at the ridiculousness of it and cracks a yawn so wide it hurts.
Somewhere nearby there's a light chuckle and the tap tap of fingers on a keyboard stutters to a stop. "Welcome back to the living. Feel any better?"
The bed dips when Linkara plops down on the edge and leans in for a kiss. Spoony keeps his mouth shut out of common courtesy, leaving it a simple, dry peck. It tastes like something furry curled up and died deep down in his throat, and he can only imagine how epic his morning (afternoon?) breath must be.
He tries a stretch and winces through it. He feels, in a word, like hell. His head is stuffed with the fog unique to oversleeping, his thoughts slip sliding away when he tries to focus. His bladder is so full it's screaming, his belly is so empty it's cramping, and that taste in his mouth keeps developing new nuances of foulness.
"Wonderful," he says through another yawn, and it's not entirely a lie. Not when Linkara is leaning down to nibble at his neck. He tilts his head back, hoping he doesn't stink too badly of stale sweat.
"Should have let me sleep so late," he grumbles even as he gasps, trying to sound stern, "Whole day got wasted."
Linkara bites at the top of his shoulder in mild rebuke. "You needed it. You were dead on your feet."
He soothes the mark by licking over it. Spoony thinks about protesting before things go further, insisting on at least taking a shower to wash off the funk of half a day spent comatose.
He hates not being at his best in front of Linkara. Their relationship (his mind skitters away from the word, too girly, too permanent) is still too new to take anything for granted.
That was the reason he'd pushed so hard to get the new review up on time. And of course everything had gone wrong, from weird camera angles to corrupted files. It had been a nightmarish two days of reshoots, but if his reward for staying on schedule was Linkara in his bed, Spoony was about to get a hell of a lot more organized.
He spreads his legs when Linkara shifts over to lie on top of him, humming in approval when the other man rolls his hips.
There's no urgency to it. Just a slow, easy glide, their cocks separated by the Spoony's boxers and Linkara's jeans. There's no reason it should feel half as good as it does, but Spoony settles his hands on his boyfriend's (lover's? partner's?) hips and thrusts up into the friction.
Usually Linkara treats sex like a battle. In bed he's confident, controlled, deadly serious. When they'd been together in the past it had bordered on competitive, a race to see who would scream first. But this...this is lazy and not entirely comfortable. Linkara's weight is pressing against Spoony's belly, sparking bitter complaints from a bladder stretched full to bursting.
Spoony doesn't want it to end.
He's had urgent sex, passionate sex, even kinky sex. This is something new. It's...sweet. A slow build, with the usual frantic burn. Almost comforting.
Fuck. He really is becoming a girl.
Linkara has moved from his neck to his collarbone, mouthing gently at thin skin. Things go from sweet to damn good in a hurry when he worms a hand down between them to squeeze Spoony's cock through his boxers. Linkara swallows his gasp (eyes widening at what have to be FUMES coming out of Spoony's mouth, and really, he's no rose in the morning either) and thrusts a little faster.
When Linkara slips his fingers inside the slit in Spoony's boxers to tease his balls Spoony shudders his way into climax. It's as lazy as the sex, tingling across his nerves and almost sending him right back to sleep.
Then Linkara thrusts again, and his weight hits Spoony's pelvis just so.
Spoony tenses, and for an instant he thinks everything is fine.
And then it gushes out of him. Twelve hours of hot piss. It's a river, a flood, and the relief hits him hard, like a second orgasm on the heels of the first.
His body spasms, trying to arch up into Linkara and shrink away at the same time. A sob catches in his throat, and he's not sure if it's because it feels so damn good or from the pure humiliation of it all.
He expects Linkara to scrabble off him. Instead the hand in his boxers wraps around his cock, fingers tracing the head and dabbling in the stream that has only just begun to slow.
"Oh," Linkara says, but he doesn't sound horrified. Suddenly he's sucking hard just under Spoony's jaw and the rhythm of his hips dissolves into frantic, jerky little pushes. He moans, and the sound is positively filthy, even more so than the warm liquid soaking through Spoony's boxers and spilling down to stain the sheets.
Spoony has no idea how he's supposed to feel about any of this.
Even when it's over Linkara doesn't pull away, just stays right there on top of Spoony, letting the crotch of his jeans soak in the mess. His hand goes wandering, rubbing the piss into the soft skin of Spoony's thighs.
Spoony squeezes his eyes shut. He can feel himself getting hard again already, and that's plain mortifying. He bucks a little, testing if Linkara is ready to let him up, but those clever fingers find his cock again, nails scratching lightly at the slit. He's oversensitive, skin damp and abraded, but it hurts so damn good.
"Look at me," Linkara orders, and Spoony does, because he's yet to figure out how to deny the other man anything. It's something he plans to work on, assuming Linkara doesn't leave him in favor of someone with full control over their bladder.
"Watching you let go..." Linkara's pupils are blown wide, his cheeks flushed a blotchy red. He looks thoroughly debauched, but the way he strokes Spoony's hair is almost tender. "You're gorgeous."
"Shut the fuck up," Spoony says, but he's smiling.
Summary: Spoony only meant to take a nap, not sleep for twelve straight hours. He wakes to find Linkara in the mood to play, but things take a rather *weird* turn. Luckily Linkara doesn't seem to mind. Spoony isn't sure if he does or not.
Characters/Pairings: Linkara/Spoony
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This work is based on characters played by the great guys at Channel Awesome.
Warning- Contains involuntary urination and watersports. It's from the kink meme, after all
Waking is a disaster.
Only the red smear of the alarm clock convinces Spoony he hasn't been the victim of a mugging. Every muscles is stiff and aching, and he has to blink hard before the glowing numbers slide into focus, lids rasping over eyes so dry they feel sandblasted.
Twelve hours. He's been asleep for twelve fucking hours.
He groans at the ridiculousness of it and cracks a yawn so wide it hurts.
Somewhere nearby there's a light chuckle and the tap tap of fingers on a keyboard stutters to a stop. "Welcome back to the living. Feel any better?"
The bed dips when Linkara plops down on the edge and leans in for a kiss. Spoony keeps his mouth shut out of common courtesy, leaving it a simple, dry peck. It tastes like something furry curled up and died deep down in his throat, and he can only imagine how epic his morning (afternoon?) breath must be.
He tries a stretch and winces through it. He feels, in a word, like hell. His head is stuffed with the fog unique to oversleeping, his thoughts slip sliding away when he tries to focus. His bladder is so full it's screaming, his belly is so empty it's cramping, and that taste in his mouth keeps developing new nuances of foulness.
"Wonderful," he says through another yawn, and it's not entirely a lie. Not when Linkara is leaning down to nibble at his neck. He tilts his head back, hoping he doesn't stink too badly of stale sweat.
"Should have let me sleep so late," he grumbles even as he gasps, trying to sound stern, "Whole day got wasted."
Linkara bites at the top of his shoulder in mild rebuke. "You needed it. You were dead on your feet."
He soothes the mark by licking over it. Spoony thinks about protesting before things go further, insisting on at least taking a shower to wash off the funk of half a day spent comatose.
He hates not being at his best in front of Linkara. Their relationship (his mind skitters away from the word, too girly, too permanent) is still too new to take anything for granted.
That was the reason he'd pushed so hard to get the new review up on time. And of course everything had gone wrong, from weird camera angles to corrupted files. It had been a nightmarish two days of reshoots, but if his reward for staying on schedule was Linkara in his bed, Spoony was about to get a hell of a lot more organized.
He spreads his legs when Linkara shifts over to lie on top of him, humming in approval when the other man rolls his hips.
There's no urgency to it. Just a slow, easy glide, their cocks separated by the Spoony's boxers and Linkara's jeans. There's no reason it should feel half as good as it does, but Spoony settles his hands on his boyfriend's (lover's? partner's?) hips and thrusts up into the friction.
Usually Linkara treats sex like a battle. In bed he's confident, controlled, deadly serious. When they'd been together in the past it had bordered on competitive, a race to see who would scream first. But this...this is lazy and not entirely comfortable. Linkara's weight is pressing against Spoony's belly, sparking bitter complaints from a bladder stretched full to bursting.
Spoony doesn't want it to end.
He's had urgent sex, passionate sex, even kinky sex. This is something new. It's...sweet. A slow build, with the usual frantic burn. Almost comforting.
Fuck. He really is becoming a girl.
Linkara has moved from his neck to his collarbone, mouthing gently at thin skin. Things go from sweet to damn good in a hurry when he worms a hand down between them to squeeze Spoony's cock through his boxers. Linkara swallows his gasp (eyes widening at what have to be FUMES coming out of Spoony's mouth, and really, he's no rose in the morning either) and thrusts a little faster.
When Linkara slips his fingers inside the slit in Spoony's boxers to tease his balls Spoony shudders his way into climax. It's as lazy as the sex, tingling across his nerves and almost sending him right back to sleep.
Then Linkara thrusts again, and his weight hits Spoony's pelvis just so.
Spoony tenses, and for an instant he thinks everything is fine.
And then it gushes out of him. Twelve hours of hot piss. It's a river, a flood, and the relief hits him hard, like a second orgasm on the heels of the first.
His body spasms, trying to arch up into Linkara and shrink away at the same time. A sob catches in his throat, and he's not sure if it's because it feels so damn good or from the pure humiliation of it all.
He expects Linkara to scrabble off him. Instead the hand in his boxers wraps around his cock, fingers tracing the head and dabbling in the stream that has only just begun to slow.
"Oh," Linkara says, but he doesn't sound horrified. Suddenly he's sucking hard just under Spoony's jaw and the rhythm of his hips dissolves into frantic, jerky little pushes. He moans, and the sound is positively filthy, even more so than the warm liquid soaking through Spoony's boxers and spilling down to stain the sheets.
Spoony has no idea how he's supposed to feel about any of this.
Even when it's over Linkara doesn't pull away, just stays right there on top of Spoony, letting the crotch of his jeans soak in the mess. His hand goes wandering, rubbing the piss into the soft skin of Spoony's thighs.
Spoony squeezes his eyes shut. He can feel himself getting hard again already, and that's plain mortifying. He bucks a little, testing if Linkara is ready to let him up, but those clever fingers find his cock again, nails scratching lightly at the slit. He's oversensitive, skin damp and abraded, but it hurts so damn good.
"Look at me," Linkara orders, and Spoony does, because he's yet to figure out how to deny the other man anything. It's something he plans to work on, assuming Linkara doesn't leave him in favor of someone with full control over their bladder.
"Watching you let go..." Linkara's pupils are blown wide, his cheeks flushed a blotchy red. He looks thoroughly debauched, but the way he strokes Spoony's hair is almost tender. "You're gorgeous."
"Shut the fuck up," Spoony says, but he's smiling.